


Acceleration

by helens78



Series: Internal Combustion [2]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Car Sex, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Podfic Available, Racing, Vehicles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-27
Updated: 2012-03-27
Packaged: 2017-11-02 14:37:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/370084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Erik asks Charles out on a date, Charles isn't expecting it to be a drag race.  He's especially not expecting a drag race run by Erik's ex.  Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/217942">Ignition</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Acceleration

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reena_jenkins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reena_jenkins/gifts).



> So here is what happened:
> 
> I've had a sequel to [Ignition](http://archiveofourown.org/works/217942) in the works for, er, months and months and months (actually, now that I think about it, I think I wrote the first scene in the sequel first). But I hadn't thought about it for a while, until reena_jenkins was looking for an auto racing AU story to fill out her au_bingo card.
> 
> I was like OKAY HI ME HELLO WHEE? XD And then I finished the sequel.
> 
> And it had NO CARS in it.
> 
> So I wrote this. Which is also a sequel to Ignition. But DOES have cars and racing in it.
> 
>  **ETA: And the podfic is now available, guys!!! You should totally listen to it (if you like podfic).** Find it [here](http://reena-jenkins.livejournal.com/80664.html) and tell reena_jenkins SHE IS AWESOME. :D

When Erik teases Charles with the idea of a _date_ , Charles has no idea what to expect. Dinner out? A pizza, maybe? A movie? There's a Nicolas Cage movie out right now, something about cars... not that Charles has ever seen any evidence that Erik likes movies, in particular. Erik likes cars, and anything metal, and he has boxes full of car magazines under his bed where most men would have copies of random porn magazines. Erik likes to read, Charles thinks, or at the very least he has a bookshelf, and there are books on it.

But really. Mostly, when the two of them together, they're stealing cars or fucking, or they're fucking in or on the cars they steal. Or they're sleeping. Lately, sometimes, they're sleeping together, after they're all fucked out. (Charles takes the wet spot most of the time; it's a small price to pay for not being kicked out of bed.)

A date, though. Charles gets into the car-- a Corvette Z06 this time, very very nice, it'll be a shame when they have to drop it off to be repainted and sold-- and lets Erik drive off where he will. No cheating with telepathy; if Erik wants it to be a surprise, Charles will let it be a surprise.

They're way off the beaten path by the time they get where they're going; Charles has no idea where they've ended up. But they're not the first people there, which is sort of odd, for a _date_. There are a good eight or nine other cars in the... it's not exactly a parking lot. It's more like the end of a stretch of road in which a bunch of cars have decided to take up residence.

"Is this a tailgate party?" Charles asks, glancing around. He doesn't see any grills, although someone does have a cooler on the ground, and a few men and women are gathered around it, drinking-- hm, none of them have beer, interesting. It's all sodas and energy drinks.

The cars are also nicer than he'd expect from any random gathering of people in the middle of nowhere. Erik's brought his Corvette, there's a BMW M5, a Jaguar XFR, an Audi RS 6, and God, that Aston Martin DBS is pretty-- Charles wonders if the woman leaning against it bought it or stole it.

"You'll see," Erik promises. "Come on, let me introduce you."

The first person he introduces Charles to is the woman leaning against the Aston Martin. "Emma."

"Erik." She comes off the car and puts her hand on Erik's arm, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "Good to see you again. Sebastian said you'd be coming, but I wasn't sure I believed it." She glances back at Charles. "Oh, this must be the new partner."

"Charles, this is Emma; Emma, Charles."

"Pleasure," Charles says, offering her his hand. She takes it, and he has a sudden sensation of _cold_ traveling through his mind, which he blocks instinctively.

It makes her smile. "Oh, you brought a telepath. Nice."

"Same to you," Charles says, one eyebrow going up.

"I also do this." She shimmers for a second, and then _changes_ \-- her body, hair and clothes and all, turns into what looks like living crystal. She starts to reach out for Charles again, but Erik quickly pushes Charles behind him.

"Not funny," Erik says.

"I wasn't going to hurt him. Much."

"We'll see you later. Come on," Erik says to Charles, pulling him away.

"What was that about?"

"Her hands can be very sharp in diamond form."

"Diamond form..." Charles glances back over his shoulder. "Does that mean she's indestructible like that?"

"Not at all. Just harder to hurt than when she's in human form."

Something about Erik's confident knowledge makes Charles wonder just how well he knows Emma, and where they fall on the friendship-enmity scale. But he only says, "I wonder how much she weighs like that," which makes Erik laugh.

"I should have let you ask. Come on, there are some much nicer people around." And Erik introduces Charles to a tall, slim, black man, who's holding hands with a younger blond man-- he can't be more than seventeen, eighteen at the outside. "Armando, Alex, this is Charles."

"Finally," says the blond. He takes his hand out of his boyfriend's and offers it to Charles. "I'm Alex. Armando said Erik was going to try to get you out to one of these things eventually."

"Whatever it is," Charles answers. "Good to meet you."

Armando's next, offering a handshake; when Charles's thoughts brush against his mind, there's a painful burst of feedback that has Charles reeling back on his heels. "Ow."

"Sorry." Armando actually does look a bit embarrassed. "Telepath? Empath?"

"Telepath," Charles confirms. The feedback's gotten much less severe, though he still can't read anything from Armando at all. It wasn't as though he was trying to invade Armando's privacy; he's just used to picking up surface emotions, the way other people notice aftershave. Apparently Armando's mutation counters even that. "And you?"

"Adaptability. I'd have to let you in on purpose, my mutation blocks any kind of telepathy or empathy."

"He can also get really strong. And he absorbs energy." Alex smirks at the last, grinning up at Armando.

"I'll absorb your energy any time, baby," Armando says, grabbing Alex around the waist and hugging him so hard his feet come off the ground. Alex laughs.

"I should have warned you to bring insulin," Erik apologizes.

But Charles is distracted by something else entirely. "Is _everyone_ here a mutant?"

"Pretty much," Armando says, setting Alex back down. "You met Emma, she does the diamond thing... I adapt... Erik has the metalbending..."

"Everyone has some advantage in a race," Erik confirms.

"Racing," Charles repeats, and suddenly everything makes sense. All these fantastic cars, Erik's Corvette, Emma's Aston Martin, Armando's Bentley. "You brought me here to see a drag race?"

Erik's eyebrows go up. "Bad choice?"

Charles just laughs. "You know I like cars _almost_ as much as you do, it's not a bad choice at all." He slides his hand up to Erik's shoulder and squeezes. "Bit unusual for a first date, though..."

"And here I thought the R8 was our first date." Erik grins. "I _was_ planning to race, I haven't been here in a while. If you'd like, you can ride with me."

"Would that put you at a weight disadvantage? I thought every pound counted for something like a race. Not that I'd really know." He looks at Armando, and then flicks his eyes back to Erik; he can't imagine Erik hasn't told these people where he gets his cars. "I just steal them."

"Like me," Alex says. "My power wouldn't be much good for racing."

"What's yours...?"

Alex clams up, though, shaking his head. "It's kind of stupid. Not like adaptation or metalbending or anything."

"Aw, stop being so shy about it," Armando says, reaching out and ruffling Alex's hair. "He shoots energy bolts."

"Energy _rings_ ," Alex corrects, slapping at Armando's hand. "And not that well. They sort of go all over the place."

"I could try to help with that." Charles can't help making the offer, even though it makes both Armando and Erik stare at him. "If you'd be into--" He puts a hand up by his temple, gesturing. "I've been able to help people get a handle on their mutations before."

"Really," Erik says. "You didn't tell me that."

«We don't exactly spend a lot of time talking about our pasts,» Charles thinks at him.

«Point taken.» "Anyway. I'd better get my name in if I'm going to race."

"Yeah." Armando nods over to the far end of the gathering, where an older man standing next to a... _God_. Charles almost goes weak at the knees. It's a Ferrari, and it's a P-series, a 330 P3 from the look of it. "Uh-oh. I think we lost another one to Sebastian's Ferrari."

"I just didn't think any of those still existed," Charles says. He can't help staring. It's beautiful, bright cherry red, body showing off the bubble styling of the '60s, more curves than-- well, than Emma, back by the Aston Martin. The car seems to _flow_ , even just in place. "Where do you think he got it?"

"Never ask Sebastian where he got _anything,_ " Alex advises. "Trust me. You don't want to know."

Charles glances up at Erik-- and he opens up to Erik's emotions as soon as he does, because Erik's jaw is clenched, and he's staring at the man by the Ferrari as though some sort of jealousy might be involved. «I was only interested in the car,» Charles promises. «Really, I didn't even notice the person.»

It's not jealousy sweeping through Erik, though. It's much more complicated than that. Rage, frustration, anger, hate. Charles looks at the man by the car again. Sebastian, Alex said, and Emma mentioned that name, too-- _Sebastian said you'd be coming, but I wasn't sure I believed it._

Whoever he is, Erik hates him. And Erik told him he'd be coming.

There's more to this story than Charles can figure, at least without really digging into Erik's mind or Sebastian's, and he's not willing to do that just yet. But Erik stalks over to Sebastian like a man on a mission, and Charles stays in place, uncertain whether he's supposed to follow or not.

He throws a questioning look at Armando, hoping for some guidance. Armando shakes his head. "Leave them be. It's not something you want to get in the middle of."

"Yeah. All right..." Charles shakes his head, trying to keep his mind contained, his telepathy in check. Quite apart from Sebastian, and whatever it is that's between Sebastian and Erik, this is the first time Erik's introduced Charles to any of his friends. "So how long have you two known Erik?"

"I've been racing with Erik for, oh, three years now," Armando says.

"Shouldn't that be _against_...?"

"Not usually." Armando smiles. "Not that I wouldn't-- I'm not afraid to wreck, my mutation would protect me-- but somehow our names never get drawn together. He races whoever Sebastian _wants_ him to race."

"And who would that be tonight?"

"Emma, maybe. Janos." Armando points over at the man standing next to the BMW M5. "Azazel, if he shows, but you can never tell with Azazel."

Something Armando said has managed to get itself stuck in Charles's mind. "You're not afraid to wreck," he says. "Erik _wrecks_ these cars when he's racing?"

"Usually he wrecks the _other_ guy's car," Alex says dryly. When that doesn't take the concern off Charles's face, Alex quickly shakes his head. "No no no, I'm mostly kidding. Erik's one of the safest drivers out there, his powers are great for racing. He can keep his car on the road no matter what comes at him."

"He really is safe," Armando assures Charles. "Even his _cars_ never take a beating, he's got a grip on the metal like nothing I've ever seen. He never has to worry about weight or handling-- you were asking about weight earlier-- because his mutation can compensate for that. Like the Corvette he showed up in. The handling's rough on that thing and the brakes are even worse-- I wouldn't want to try to race it. But it's faster than almost anything else out there, and the acceleration's fantastic. It's definitely got what it takes. He'll be fine."

"You really care, though, huh?" Alex asks, grinning again. "That's sweet."

Armando elbows him in the side. "Don't mind Alex, he's just--"

"Kind of a bitch," Alex fills in helpfully. "Seriously, though, Erik--"

Erik's drawing Charles's attention himself, actually; Charles's head snaps up as he hears Erik's mind calling out for him. «Charles. Do you mind coming over?»

"I'll be right back," Charles tells Alex and Armando, and he makes his way past all the other cars and drivers in order to meet up with Erik and the mysterious Sebastian.

"Nice," is the first thing Sebastian says to Charles. Or maybe he's not saying it to Charles at all; maybe he means it for Erik. Because his smirk is all too obvious, almost theatrical, and his eyes roam over Charles's body in a way that makes Charles slam up his shields instantly. It's one thing to have someone fucking him with his eyes; Charles has no desire to feel it happening in his head, too.

"Sebastian, this is Charles Xavier, my partner. Charles, this is Sebastian Shaw--"

"His ex." Shaw. Charles is relieved to have a last name to go along with the first; he could use a little distance from this man, including not having to refer to him by first name. Shaw smiles at Erik, and if the look he gave Charles was obvious and vile, the look he gives Erik makes Charles seriously consider tackling him and scratching his eyes out. It's a look that speaks of history, and making assumptions, and a man who feels he has every right to make those assumptions, and maybe Charles and Erik haven't known each other very long, but he's got _some_ claim on Erik, doesn't he?

He reaches out and grabs Erik's hand, squeezing it hard. "He's never mentioned you," Charles tells Shaw.

"Go figure. I taught him everything he knows. About _racing_." Not about racing, Charles doesn't need to be told. God, Charles hates him already.

"I've learned a few things since then. It was a long time ago."

"Too long," Shaw agrees. "Good to have you back out here. I saw what you drove in with. Can't wait to add that to my collection." Shaw looks Charles over again, and this time, God, he actually licks his lips. Charles moves a little closer to Erik, and Erik tightens his grip on Charles's hand.

"You'll never touch it," Erik grits out. "Feel free to fantasize."

«I wish he wouldn't,» Charles thinks. Erik squeezes his hand again.

"Right. We'll see," Shaw says, but it seems he's more or less done treating Charles like he's a trophy. "Feel free to mingle some more. We won't be getting started for a while."

Erik nods, and then he's dragging Charles away. Charles doesn't mind.

They skip past everyone else, and Erik flings both car doors open as they come up to the Corvette. Charles piles in, as does Erik, and Erik turns to Charles, grabbing him and pulling him halfway across the console, getting his hands and mouth on Charles right here, right in front of everyone. Charles shoves his hands under Erik's jacket, digs his fingertips into Erik's shoulders. «I won't ask,» he promises, mouth opening under Erik's, «I won't ask, but _God_ , I can see why you hate him--»

«For so much more than that, but-- yes,» Erik thinks, kissing Charles harder, his hand moving between them and cupping Charles's cock. Charles isn't hard yet, but if Erik keeps that up, he will be. «I might have killed him if he'd tried to shake your hand.»

« _I_ might have killed him if he'd tried to shake my hand,» Charles says, not quite sure he's teasing. «His _collection_...»

«In his _dreams_.» Erik pushes Charles back into the passenger seat and immediately reaches down to Charles's belt, unbuckling it and tugging at Charles's button and zipper with his power. Charles lifts his hips up, helping; Erik's keyed up enough Charles doesn't want to try to tell him no, or later, or anything at all.

Instead, he concentrates on Erik, and what Erik's doing-- which is bending down so his head's in Charles's lap, and drawing Charles's cock out of his jeans. Charles sucks in a breath while Erik sucks in _something else_ , God, and Charles puts a hand in Erik's hair and closes his eyes and goes along for the ride.

It's rough, messy, sloppy, and Charles can't shake the notion that Erik's doing it to prove a point-- but Charles can't bring himself to care, not when the result of that is having Erik's mouth on him, sucking him down as though he's intent on getting Charles to come _now_ , right now. Charles digs into Erik's mind, pulls at all of Erik's pleasure centers, and Erik gasps around Charles's cock, the arousal and urgency amping up for him, too.

He takes one hand off Charles's thigh in order to unbutton his own jeans, and soon enough he's got his cock in his hand and Charles's cock in his mouth, and Charles focuses on that, Erik's pleasure and his own, one feeding the other until they're right on the edge, ready to go over together. Erik makes a harsh, hungry noise, and Charles pants out, " _Now_ ," and he comes first, filling Erik's mouth with it, gasping and clutching Erik's hair, keeping Erik right where he is until the last of it's over and he can see straight again.

The moment he lets Erik have a breath, Erik drags his mouth off Charles's cock and works his own, and in another instant he's coming, too, gasping, his mouth still wet and shiny from the blowjob. Charles leans his head back against the headrest and tries to catch his breath; Erik slumps in the driver's seat and does the same.

"I think you've stained the upholstery," Charles manages, a little later.

"I think it won't matter," Erik says, buttoning up his jeans again. Charles does his best to set his clothes to rights, and he opens up the glove box, hoping for tissues. None are forthcoming, so he tugs his jacket up and uses his sleeve to wipe up some of the come Erik got on the console and the leather. "Leave it," Erik growls. "It's as close as he's going to get to having me again."

"Maybe I don't want him even getting that much, did you think of that?" Charles snaps back. He finishes with one sleeve and has to use the other; maybe he shouldn't have pushed Erik's arousal to quite that extent.

Erik's staring at him when he finishes, and Charles narrows his eyes. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Don't make me come in there after you and find out what 'nothing' means..."

Erik sighs and puts both hands on the steering wheel. "Just. Thank you."

"You're welcome." Charles reaches out, shirt sleeve carefully tucked back under his jacket sleeve, and rests his hand on the back of Erik's neck. "I said I won't ask, and I won't, but if you ever want to talk about it..."

"Sometime. Not now." Erik glances up. "Looks like they're about to draw names for the races."

"I guess you'd better get out there, then."

Armando's prediction about Erik racing Emma or Janos turns out to have been accurate; it's Erik against Emma, and Charles takes his spot in the passenger seat of Erik's car, buckling in. "You're sure you want me here," Charles says. "I can block her from the sidelines."

Erik glances over, a little surprised. "I didn't bring you here just to block her."

"Not _just_ ," Charles says. "But don't tell me you weren't thinking it."

Erik grips the wheel and stares straight ahead. "Of course I was thinking it," he says. "That doesn't mean you have to do it."

"Don't be absurd, I wouldn't leave you to deal with her ability alone. I'm just saying that I can do it from the track. I don't have to be in the car."

"Do you want out?"

"Your ability protects the _car_ ," Charles says. "The frame. I'm as safe as you are in here. I'm not afraid of what's going to happen." That's not entirely true; a drag race is one thing, but a drag race with everyone using his or her ability... it _is_ a little frightening. But Erik's always been fine, and Alex and Armando said Erik was one of the safest drivers out there...

"Then I'd like you to stay," Erik says, taking his hand off the gearshift and sliding it up Charles's thigh. "You've never _really_ seen me drive."

Charles takes Erik's hand and moves it up a little higher. "I can't wait."

Shaw himself comes up to the starting line, walking between the cars, his hands curving over their bodies and roofs. Erik tenses all over, quickly taking his hand off Charles's thigh, and he doesn't relax until Shaw stops caressing the metal and turns around, facing both the drivers. He takes a white silk handkerchief out of his pocket, holds both arms to his sides-- both Emma and Erik rev their engines, waiting for the signal to go.

And then they get it, Shaw's arms swinging up, handkerchief waving in the air. Erik's Corvette roars into action, shooting down the pavement as though fired from a gun. Emma's Aston Martin lags behind, but not by much; they're almost neck-and-neck.

The Corvette jerks and slams Charles against the seat with every shift in gears; Erik's muscling every burst of power he can get out of the transmission. It's working, too, the Corvette leaving the Aston Martin behind. This could be _easy_ ; Charles laughs out loud.

And then Charles feels the first spike of Emma's telepathy and grits his teeth against it, his mind coming out to shield Erik. «Off him, keep your fucking thoughts _off him_.» It doesn't hurt, isn't a strain exactly, but she was faster than he expected, and he almost missed.

He grips the handle on his right armrest and presses the fingertips of his left hand to his temple, focusing on Emma. _See how you like it_ , he thinks, and grabs for control of her body and _pulls_.

Her car brakes unexpectedly, the transmission guttering; Erik pulls ahead. But then there's an icy wall in Charles's mind, and Emma's catching up, and this time he can't feel her at all.

"She's blocking me. Something's wrong," Charles says. Erik looks in the rearview mirror, and Charles cranes his head around. Even from here, he can see the sparkle. "She's in diamond form."

"Good," Erik growls, and he jerks the wheel to the side, battering Charles against the door, against Erik's shoulder. Emma's Aston Martin roars up alongside them, on Charles's side now, and then it's _on them_ , on _Charles_ and--

"Fuck," Erik grunts. Emma's car bangs against the passenger door, and Charles flinches back, but the car doesn't move or crumple. Charles's heart is pounding in his chest. "I've got you. You're safe, I've got you."

"Is that for me or the car?" Charles asks, and his voice is too high, a little hysteria creeping in. He should have stayed on the sidelines. He'll only be a distraction.

"Both of you. Hang on."

Charles keeps hold of the door handle and gets his hand back to his temple. He looks over at Emma. If she turns back to human form for just an instant, he'll get her to brake again. He can do that. He _will_ do that.

She feints at Erik's car again, but this time Charles is ready. He's not going to let her scare him. He tries to force his mind through her wall of diamond, but there's no way in. "Come on," he murmurs, "come on, let me in, let me _in_ , I need to be _inside_ you..."

"Later, darling," Erik says, imitating Charles's voice, and Charles laughs again, still on the verge of losing control. They're coming to the finish line, it's just ahead, Erik coaxes more speed out of the engine--

\--and something explodes with a _bang_ behind them, the car bumping painfully to the ground and back. "Tire," Charles yells.

"I know. Hold on--"

Erik keeps the car from spinning out or sliding away, but he loses speed, doing it. Emma's Aston Martin comes in first by a nose, and Erik brings the car to a halt, immediately snapping off his seat belt and turning to Charles, hands roaming all over him. "Are you all right, are you hurt, are you injured--"

"I'm fine," Charles says, catching both of Erik's hands in his, guiding one to his throat and the other between his legs. "Later, darling."

Erik chokes out a laugh and tugs Charles into his arms. «Thank God. Thank God, I wouldn't have let anything happen to you, I couldn't, you're everything, I'll never let him touch you, never...»

Charles has enough time to stroke Erik's hair and press a kiss to his temple before a knock against the passenger window has him reeling back, slamming up his shields again. He'll need a bucket of Scotch to get those images out of his mind. He's never taken a dislike to someone so quickly as he has with Shaw, but he's absolutely on Erik's side with this: the man's horrible. Charles doesn't want to be within ten feet of him, or within ten miles of his mind.

He has to get out of the car anyway, and Erik comes around the car to drop the keys into Shaw's hand. "All yours," he says. When he pulls Charles behind him, Charles doesn't argue. "The car. Is yours."

"Maybe next time we'll up the stakes a little." Shaw eyes Charles from over Erik's shoulder. "See you boys around."

Erik takes Charles's hand, and Charles isn't sure which of them is shaking as they make their way back to the others. Armando won his race, and he offers them a ride home; nobody talks much on the way back to Erik's place. Armando reaches out the window to exchange fist bumps with Erik, and Alex waves as they take off again.

Inside, Erik pulls Charles through the living room and gets him into the bedroom, and Charles is stripping Erik's clothes off as soon as they come to a stop. Erik pulls back and finishes the job, undressing, leaving his clothes in a messy pile on the floor, and Charles keeps up, stripping down to bare skin and crawling backward onto the bed, biting his lip to keep from panting for it.

 _I won't ask_ , Charles thinks, his thoughts carefully secured, just for himself. _I won't ask and I won't go looking. I don't need to know everything. I don't need to know._

But when Erik takes him-- fast and solid with a minimum of prep, as rough and claiming as the first time-- Charles hangs onto him, fingers digging into Erik's arms so hard he knows he'll leave bruises behind. He doesn't need to know everything, but he needs to know _this_ , and his thoughts move out almost against his will, _almost_.

«You're mine,» he thinks. «Not one way, this doesn't go one way, I'm yours and I'll be yours as long as you want me, but _you're mine_ , Erik, you're _mine_ , not his, no one else's, _mine_.»

Erik gasps, thrusts going erratic, thoughts tangled up in tonight, and the moment, and all the blinding hatred he feels for Shaw. "No one," he gets out, a gasp and a promise. " _Yours._ "

That's it. That's what Charles needed to hear, out loud where it isn't just fleeting, isn't just a wish that might never become reality. "Say it again," Charles snarls, getting one hand up to curve around the back of Erik's neck. " _Mine._ "

"Yours," Erik says again, and then he's lost to it, coming with a shout, driving into Charles so hard it pushes Charles up the bed. It hurts, he'll _ache_ after this, but he wants the burn and the stretch and the ache, wants to feel this in his body the way he feels it in his mind.

«Mine,» Charles presses into Erik's head, and then he's coming, too, hand tightening on Erik's neck, whole body shaking with need and release. He collapses, after, and Erik lands on top of him, pushing the breath from him. Charles wraps his arms and legs around Erik and closes his eyes. He's got Erik, now. He doesn't need to breathe.

After Erik finally rolls aside, Charles tucks up against his back, pressing his lips against Erik's shoulder.

"I should tell you about him," Erik murmurs, reaching back and taking Charles's hand, drawing Charles's arm around his chest.

"Fuck 'should'," Charles whispers back. "Sleep on it. Tell me tomorrow."

"It was never..." Erik squeezes Charles's hand. "It's never been like this. With anyone."

Charles squirms up the bed a little, just enough that he can rest his head against Erik's. "I know," he whispers. «I know.»

But it's not really comforting, hearing that it wasn't like this with Shaw-- or hearing close enough to it that Charles can fill in the blanks. Whatever it was, it still weighs heavy on Erik. Whatever it was, he's still going back to those races with Shaw, maybe _for_ Shaw, and he still has something to prove.

He smooths his free hand over Erik's hair and hugs Erik a little closer. «It's going to be all right,» he thinks. «Everything's going to be fine.»

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] Acceleration](https://archiveofourown.org/works/447360) by [helens78](https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78), [reena_jenkins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reena_jenkins/pseuds/reena_jenkins)




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